


Play

by jasmasson



Series: The Beer Boys [4]
Category: Troy (2004), Troy (2004) RPF
Genre: Bondage, Dubious Consent, Incest, Kinky, M/M, Porn, Roleplay, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-07-04
Updated: 2005-07-04
Packaged: 2017-10-19 09:39:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/199469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jasmasson/pseuds/jasmasson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hector stops Paris from taking Helen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Play

**Author's Note:**

> Kinky roleplay, with spanking, consent play and incest.

***

Hector did not look at the dark figure in the middle of the cabin as he entered. He resolutely ignored the soft noise from it as he concentrated on lighting the lanterns.

But he knew the men above were labouring hard under their Prince’s command, travelling, as fast as he dared push them, away from Sparta. He had ordered the Captain to make all speed to Troy; as though by leaving Sparta’s cursed, miserable shores he would leave all its problems behind.

That was, of course, untrue. His most difficult problem shared this cabin with him at this very moment. His most complicated, beloved trouble, that he carried with him in his heart wherever he went.

He risked a look at the silent figure and caught Paris’s dark eyes glaring at him.

He looked away quickly and continued methodically illuminating the cabin. He finished and glanced back again.

Paris had adopted a different strategy, and was now looking at him with pleading eyes. Hector knew this for the ploy it was, but still melted slightly and, squaring his shoulders, poured a cup of cool water that had been left out for the princes and approached his brother.

Gently he removed the gag around Paris’s soft mouth and put the glass gently to his lips.

Paris took a few sips before pulling his head back to glare at Hector.

“Let me go.”

“You won’t do anything stupid?”

“What could I possibly do, Hector?” Paris glared at him from where he sat, arms tied behind his back, legs tied to the chair. “I have no power here, you made that perfectly clear when you humiliated me in front of all the men.”

Hector sighed.

“I’m sorry Paris, but I couldn’t allow it, you *must* see that.”

“You didn’t even talk to me! You just ordered the men to take Helen back and *carried* me into the cabin. Your brother! A Prince of Troy like a sack of potatoes, and tied me to this chair. How could you?”

“You would have gone after her, Paris. You know that. I gagged you for fear that Menelaus would come to see us off, and hear your treacherous plans.”

“We could have talked. If you didn’t want to take us, I could have stayed hidden in Sparta. We could have waited to remove suspicion from your precious Troy, and then run. But no, you made all the decisions for everyone.”

“There was no *time*, Paris. What if Menelaus had found her missing? He would have turned the country upside down for you and killed you.”

“We could have managed! I could have taken care of us.”

Hector snorted.

“You aren’t responsible for yourself, let alone anyone else.”

“I wanted to take care of her. Menelaus makes her miserable, she’s too beautiful for that cruel, ugly man.”

“Menelaus is her husband. Her duty is to him, as yours is to Troy. Agamemnon is just looking for an excuse to wage war on us and you would have played right into his hands with your spoiled, thoughtless actions.” Hector paced angrily. “You could have plunged us into war, just to sate your lust.”

“It’s not lust! I love her. I feel sorry for her. I know what it is to have those who should love you think of you only as a possession.”

“Paris, that’s unfair!”

“Really? All I ever hear from you and our father is how I should be a true Prince of Troy. You don’t care what I think or feel, or who I really am.”

“Paris, our father loves you beyond reason. He wants you to be the best Prince of Troy you can be, but he loves you as his son more than any of us.”

“And you, Hector? Do you love me?”

Hector stilled.

“Of course, Paris,” he replied levelly. “You are my brother.”

Paris looked away.

“I will return for her, I promise you. She should not be forced to live with that man who treats her like nothing. She deserves to be happy.”

“Life isn’t about happiness. Helen has a duty to her country and her husband as we have duties to our Father and Troy. We cannot marry where we love, we must do what is best.”

“You seem happy enough,” Paris spat at him. “Andromache is the perfect woman, from all you say and you think of none but her.”

This time Hector looked away.

“I love her.”

“Then you cannot speak of duty in love when, for you, passion and responsibility lie so fortunately together.”

“I do not follow my passion,” Hector confessed quietly. “You know that. I do what is best.”

Paris snorted.

“And I shall do what I think best. I shall come back for Helen and we shall go far away from Sparta and Troy where none can find us.”

“You would not!” Hector spun round. “Do you think so cheaply of those who love you? Do you hold our father in such low esteem? First you risk Troy, and then you risk yourself. Even if Menelaus did not find you, you would leave us?”

“What is there to stay for?”

“For, for love.”

“For love?” Paris asked, mockingly. “You told me not to follow love.”

“You should mind the love of your country and your family, not the selfish love of your loins,” Hector spat back. “You must learn to control your desires.”

Paris raised his chin defiantly.

“If there is no real love for me in Troy, I can find it in Sparta. I will return on the next boat and claim her. I will not reject love, like *some*, for fear.”

Hector felt his anger rise, recognising the dig at him.

“Not fear, Paris, duty. I do what I must for Troy. You do what you want on a whim.”

“You are afraid, but I am not. I will come back and fight Menelaus for her.”

As Paris stared defiantly at him, Hector pictured the damage Menelaus could do to his beautiful, spirited brother, and anger and nausea rose within him.

“You will not! You will not risk yourself like this, like a child without a toy!”

“I will! You cannot stop me, Hector.”

Furious, nearly shaking with rage, Hector said coldly: “You are quite wrong about that, little brother!”

He untied Paris’s legs from the chair and, leaving his hands tied together, pulled him over his lap.

He angrily pushed Paris’s skirt up, as Paris kicked and struggled, and exposed his naked rear.

Hector stilled for a moment, almost losing his nerve. Paris’s ass was smooth and round and perfect and Hector didn’t really know if he could actually lay a hand on his beloved brother.

“Let go! Let me go! Hector, I swear, if you lay a hand on me I will take the next boat I can find as soon as we land at Troy and return to Sparta.”

Hector found his resolve, and smacked his brother’s bare ass sharply.

The sound rang out round the cabin, along with Paris’s shocked gasp.

A moment’s silence between them.

“You will *not*,” Hector said, grimly.

“Hector,” Paris’s voice was harsh. “Let me up. You’ve no right.”

“I’m your brother. I care about you and I care about Troy, and I’ll do what’s necessary. Now, will you be sensible?”

“I’ll do as I please!” Paris sounded furious.

Hector laid two more swats on his brother’s upturned ass. Paris jerked.

“Stop it. Hector, stop it. Let me up.”

“No. Not until you promise to do what’s right. Your spoilt selfishness endangers yourself and Troy. Do you care nothing for those who love you?”

“You say you love me, and this is how you treat me? Let. Me. Up. Damn you!”

Knowing Paris to be unrepentant Hector gritted his teeth and began spanking his naughty little brother in earnest.

His hand fell again and again on Paris’s defenceless bottom. The soft skin of his brother’s round little ass turned hot and pink under his hand.

Paris wriggled, and yelled, but couldn’t escape his brother’s relentless hand.

He kicked his legs and cried out as the large, hard hand smacked the unexpectedly sensitive curve where ass met thigh.

“Ow! Hector stop, please!”

But Hector did not. He remembered all the times his brother had recklessly endangered himself and others. How many times Hector had covered for him and protected him, and how Paris had just laughed at any reprimand, sure of his charm to avoid serious repercussions. But not this time.

He watched avidly as his little brother’s sweet little ass danced prettily over his lap as he spanked it, heard his brothers soft pleas as his hot bottom was relentlessly punished.

“Hector, stop, please I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Paris sobbed.

Hector stopped, and rubbed his brother’s red, quivering cheeks.

“You’re sorry?”

“Yes, Hector, yes, I’m sorry, please let me up,” Paris’s voice hitched charmingly.

“You won’t come running back to Sparta?”

“No, Hector.”

“You’ll forget about Helen?”

“Yes, Hector.”

Hector gently soothed the sore, trembling bottom.

“You know why I spanked you, Paris?”

“B-because I put Troy in danger.”

“No.”

Hector spanked his brother’s tender thighs.

Paris yelped and kicked.

“Ow! Ow! Because, ah, because I bedded another man’s wife?”

“No, Paris.”

“Ow! Stop! I don’t know! Ow!” Paris writhed helplessly. “Because I, uh, because I’m irresponsible?”

“No, Paris.”

“I don’t know,” Paris sobbed, “I don’t know. Please, Hector, let me up.”

“Because you put *yourself* in danger, Paris.”

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry, Hector. I’ll be good.”

Hector landed one more sharp slap to each of the well-spanked buttocks over his lap.

“Good.”

He pulled Paris up onto his lap, ignoring the soft hiss Paris made as his sore bottom made contact with Hector’s strong thighs.

He pulled Paris towards him and let him sob into his shoulder, stroking his hair and hushing him.

“Hush, now, it’s all over. You’ve been very brave. You must promise me never to do something so dangerous again. I, that is, we, love you too much. Promise.”

Paris nodded into his shoulder.

Hector gently took hold of Paris’s chin and raised his beautiful, tear-stained face.

“Promise.”

“I promise, Hector.”

And because Hector couldn’t resist he gently kissed away the tears from Paris’s face.

He became suddenly aware of Paris rocking against him, and to his shock realised that Paris was desperately hard and rubbing against his belly.

“Paris!” He stopped his hips. “Paris, stop.”

He tried to ignore his own achingly hard erection, but Paris ground down onto it on his lap.

“Paris,” he moaned, closing his eyes, and Paris took the opportunity to press his lips against Hector’s. They were soft and open, so he kissed him gently and Hector groaned in response, tightening his hold on Paris’s hips. “Paris, don’t.”

“Please,” Paris whispered hotly, moving down to press his mouth to Hector’s throat. “You say you love me. Show me. Please.”

Hector groaned helplessly under his brother’s soft lips and picked him up, carrying him to the bed. He lowered him gently on it and stared down.

Paris was the picture of debauchery. His skirt was pushed up around his hips, his erection tantalisingly visible between his spread thighs, as his hands were still bound behind his back, so he couldn’t have covered himself if he’d wanted to. His beautiful face was flushed and tear-stained and his hot eyes looked up at Hector with desperate hunger, no thought to the discomfort of his sore bottom on the bed, or of his hands trapped beneath him.

He spread his legs wider.

“Please, Hector. Take me. Make me yours.”

Powerless, Hector moved between his brother’s thighs and kissed him desperately.

He ran his hands through his brother’s wild curls and over his smooth, hard chest. Paris moaned into his mouth and thrust up to rub against him.

Hector moved off him, panting. He reached for the oil by the bed, unable to tear his eyes away from his brother’s.

“Untie me, Hector,” Paris said throatily, “I want to touch you. I need to touch you.”

“No,” Hector’s voice was just as hoarse. He knew he’d never be able to let his brother go again if he let him touch him.

He feared he would not ever be able to look at his brother again as it was, without feeling this desire burning through him.

Resolutely he took hold of Paris and turned him over. He had not the strength of will to stop this, but he knew that Paris would own him if he looked into his eyes as he took him.

Paris’s skirt was up around his waist and his firm, red bottom was exposed as Hector pushed him onto his belly.

Deliberately Paris spread his legs and Hector heard a groan forced out of his chest.

He moved down to lay a kiss on one of the perfect, hot buttocks he had so recently punished.

He then slicked his fingers with oil and caressed gently betwixt Paris’s lovely cheeks, moaning in response to Paris’s groan. Paris pushed back and the tip of Hector’s finger slipped into the tight entrance to his body.

Hector moaned in tandem with Paris as he prepared him, imagining the silken, tight heat wrapped around him.

He slicked up his cock and pushed into Paris, until he was flush up against the smooth, hot skin of Paris’s ass.

“Hector,” Paris moaned, pushing back. “Oh, God, Hector, please.”

The tight grasp of Paris’s body and the obscene timbre of his moans spurred Hector on until he was thrusting uncontrollably into Paris, fucking him hard and fast.

“I love you,” he groaned as Paris accepted him into his body over and over again, “I love you, I love you.”

“Yes,” Paris moaned in response. “Take me. Love me.”

Hector was on the brink, the tight heat of his brother’s beautiful body too much, but he stopped. He couldn’t... He needed... He moved back and pulled out. Paris cried out in shocked denial, thrusting back, but Hector moved away.

He turned Paris onto his back, staring down at the black, lust filled eyes in that perfect face.

“Hector,” Paris pleaded, parting his legs, thrusting his begging erection up towards him. “Hector, please.”

“I had to,” Hector replied breathlessly as he pulled Paris’s legs further apart and thrust back into him. “I had to see your face.”

Paris smiled at him and offered up his lips.

Hector kissed him hungrily as he pounded the hot, yielding body underneath him.

“Fuck,” Paris moaned suddenly. “Oh fuck.”

And hot liquid splashed between them. Paris’s body tightened almost unbearably and Hector’s orgasm was forced from him as he stared transfixed into Paris’s face, so beautiful as he came.

Hector knew even as he collapsed onto his brother - the smaller, body trapped beneath him - that he, and not his brother, had learnt their lesson this night.

He knew his brother owned him more surely now than even before, and knew, with dread, that he’d do anything to be allowed between his brother’s legs again.

***

“Well, if you ever want to shag me again for a start you can untie me, I’m losing feeling in my hands.”

“Shit.” Eric rolled off immediately and started untying Orlando. “You should have said.”

“You should have noticed my fingers turning black when you had me on my belly, you selfish wanker.”

“Yeah, right, cos when you spread your legs like that I was looking at your hands, you moron.”

Orlando flexed his fingers with a moan. Eric kissed them.

“See, all better.”

“Gee, thanks.”

They lay on their bed, distinctly *not* in the middle of the Aegean.

“Poor Hector,” Eric sighed.

“Poor Hector? Poor *Hector*?! It’s going to be poor Paris who can’t sit comfortably for days. Poor Hector, my ass! My *sore* ass!”

“But he’s so in love with Paris,” Eric said sadly.

Orlando caught the slight undertone to Eric’s words.

“And what, you think Paris lets just anybody tie him up, spank him and shag him senseless? I think not.”

“Hmm.” Eric allowed Orlando to pull him closer.

“You know, there’s definitely an Oscar in your future,” Eric said after a moment. “Those tears were fantastic.”

“They were real. You hit like a train, you bastard.”

“Really?” Eric looked alarmed. “Shit, I’m sorry! You should have *said* something.”

“Nah, not really,” Orlando grinned. “Got you though, so you’re right, I definitely should win an Oscar!”

***  



End file.
